Chaos Amalgam
by Ashura Rae
Summary: Mutations occurring in the muggle world has yet to appear in wizarding societies due to its incompatibility with magic, but Harry Potter has always been anything but normal. HP,Xmen
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: Neither Harry Potter nor the X-Men belong to me, or anything else you happen to recognise. I'm just a poor student writing for the sake of writing so be nice!

Prologue

Humankind is on the very verges of evolution in this day and age. Throughout the non-magical communities, odd occurrences in the DNA structure of cells have given rise to new mutations that allow the individual certain abilities outside that of the norm. Such a phenomenon is a breakthrough in medical sciences and a large leap forward in terms of the evolutionary trend for man, Homo sapiens (sapiens).

Throughout medical history, in the cases of mutations, in almost all of the instances are the specified mutations derogatory to the individual's health and hence a disadvantage in maintaining its survival. Examples are Down Syndrome and Klinefelters – both resultant from non-disjunction, as well as the more common day disease of cancer – a somatic cell mutation.

However these new mutations bring with them not ill side effects that dampen the ability of the individual to live out life, but advantageous abilities that increase the individual's chances of survival. Hence scientists have reached no other conclusion but this – evolution is catching up and humankind is changing, not the sort of change that progresses smoothly transitioning from one point to another in comfortable paces but the sort of change that is over night in all but the metaphorical sense and occurring at leaps and bounds.

Of course, not everyone is happy with the changes that are and is going to take place. In the non-magical societies, there have already been numerous protests against individuals born with these unique mutations, also known as mutants. People are afraid of change; they feel threatened by its prospect and the possibilities it may bring. But above all, they fear they will be the ones that are left behind.

Arguing fiercely against mutants, against the evil they might do with their new-found powers (but never taking time to consider the good) and against their 'freak-ish' ways and abilities that are perverse in nature and disregard the fundamentals of human rights (never mind that they, the protestors, themselves are all but tramping on the so called rights of their targets), the public has made it clear where the majority stands in consideration of mutants.

It's funny how by trying to prevent the thing that we are most afraid of, we more often than not, give birth to it or at least catalyse its occurrence. Shunning mutants and treating them as only sub-human, targeting them with hatred and distaste, man created the largest threat it has seen since the advancement of nuclear weapons – itself.

Bands of mutants with the common goal of revenge for the years of oppression they have endured sought to rebel in manners that are anything but peaceful. Thankfully, there are always two sides of the coin, and a division of mutants who opposed such violent retaliation stepped in to contain the damage. This inner struggle between mutants has been constant from the beginning, fluctuating about the point of balance to settle down in an uneasy truth with regular terrorist attacks and counter strikes.

Despite the obvious 'sides' of this power struggle, non-mutants still treated those who exhibited any signs of being anything but normal with vast mistrust and fear, this applied to both those who had tried to kill them and those who had died to save them. All in all, the non-magical population of earth was facing an uneasy time with neither of the forces gaining an upper hand and with the government making things worse as per usual.

However, in the magical communities across the planet, there has yet to be any signs of the mutations that has struck increasingly many of those known as 'muggles', the non-magical folk. Mediwitches and wizards have come to believe that such mutations which trigger both physical and mental changes are incompatible with magic.

This theory was partially proven by the experimental examinations of a large number of pregnant witches (and a few wizards) who have had miscarriages - the observations showed that even the slightest indication of such a mutation in the foetus evoked an adverse response from the carrier, whose magic sought out these faults in an attempt to fix them. However, due to the mutation being ingrained in the foetus, such an attempt almost always resulted in the natural abortion of the child.

Currently there is a small, specialised medi-team carrying out further research concerning the matter, but as of the moment there has been no traces of evolutionary mutations across the wizarding society. Hence, as far as the magical folk were concerned, mutants were not a concern to them or their society and they proceeded to turn a blind eye. After all, with the rise and recent fall of the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, alias 'You-know-who' or 'He-who-must-not-be-named' (A/N: Snort… I love this one) the wizarding world had plenty enough on its hands.

But little did they know of the threat to come. A threat unlike any other that will sweep across the planet bringing forth changes that will push mankind into a new age, a threat that will force muggle and wizards alike to put aside their differences and unite in a common goal for survival.

And on the doorsteps of Vernon and Petunia Dursley at No.4 Privet Drive, Surrey, slept a boy marked with a bolt of lightning, an amalgamation of magic and mutant, a boy that will lead them all.

* * *

**A/N:** You know the drill! Will continue depending on the responses I get ;P 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry Potter was a smart boy, one extremely perceptive for his age. But there are just some things a child could not understand. As his stay with the Dursleys began, Harry could not understand why he had to sleep in a basket at the foot of Dudley's cosy cot. He could not understand why the blond child who fussed and fidgeted and who wailed and kicked was allowed to play with the nice toys and open the colourfully wrapped presents under the tree while he was locked in the nursery. He could not understand why the horse-faced woman smiled and cuddled the chubby boy for the simplest acts when he was frowned at and smacked on occasions when he did better. He could not understand why the bulky man with the sausage fingers could never remember his name, or turned red with anger and panic every time he was in the vicinity. None of this he understood, but he did learn quickly that drawing attention to himself was a very bad idea. So Harry Potter became a quiet and observant child, taking everything in with his large green eyes, never uttering a sound when his cousin would push him into the door or steal his pitiful portion of food.

When Harry turned two, he was moved down into the cupboard under the stairs as 'little diddlydums' required more space (at the rate he was growing, that wasn't much of a surprise) and according to the man with the many chins, it was time Dudley stopped having to put up with the freakishness that Harry seemed to represent. The boy with solemn green eyes didn't mind the arrangement awfully since it meant less time spent in the presence of his spoiled cousin and gaining some much needed solidarity for himself.

A year of being with the Dursleys had transformed the healthy outgoing baby that was Harry Potter into a quiet and introverted child. He no longer spoke unless it was desperately required and avoided eye contact less it evoked an adverse response from his guardians as it has several times before.

_"What are you looking at you freak?" Vernon growled shoving the toddler roughly to the side as Dudley absorbed the scene with pleasure._

_"Don't you look at me that way you ungrateful boy!" Petunia voiced shrilly, shoving Harry back into his cupboard without dinner yet again._

He was small for his age, his physical development stunted by the lack of nutrition. This made it all the easier for the blubbering blond to push him around and his pale skin from lack of sunlight was always marred with scrapes and bruises. Although Harry never outwardly fought back, he never gave in to the wills of those around him either, settling instead for quiet contempt and resentment. He resisted this domestic oppression through small acts of rebellion, not notable enough to get him into trouble but enough to represent small victories of defiance to the toddler. He would purposely walk slower when commanded to fetch an item, or spit into Dudley's bath water when filling the tub for the blond blob.

One thing that Harry did pride himself in was his intelligence. At the age of three, he had rapidly consumed all the books bought for Dudley after teaching himself to read. His cousin on the other hand, still struggled with the alphabet while his Aunt deluded herself into thinking she had given birth to a genius. It was at around this time that his guardians decided he was old enough to carry out more chores. So Harry found himself scrubbing the floors, cleaning the dishes and weeding the garden. One hot afternoon, Harry snuck a short break under the bushes in the cool shade after four hours of gardening. As he crawled under the overlapping branches, a movement near his arm caused the boy to freeze. Hissing, a small garden snake made its escape, disappearing into the undergrowth. Dropping to his stomach as an unknown feeling washed through him, the boy squeezed his emerald eyes shut. He felt like he was on fire, as if a battle raged inside his body, two forces clashing, repelling – and then it was gone. After checking himself over for any damage, Harry wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. Reminding himself to watch for potentially dangerous critters he returned to weeding.

When Dudley turned five, Harry attended school for the first time. The excitement at the prospect of meeting new people and perhaps even making some friends was washed down the drain as Dudley, the biggest boy in class, made it clear on the first day that he would not tolerate anyone who dared to associate with his freak of a cousin. And so Harry maintained his status as a loner, preferring to spend all his time during the breaks burrowed in the relative safety of the school library (as Dudley seemed to have somehow developed a phobia of books). In their second year of school, during a particular lunch break when the library was shut for restocking, Harry found himself hunted down like an animal by Dudley and his friends, all brawn and no brains the lot of them. Running down an empty corridor as fast as his small form could take him with the sound of hollering and pounding feet behind him, Harry wished with all his might that he could get away and avoid yet another beating. Bursting into the afternoon glare he attempted to dive behind an empty dumpster before fire engulfed him. That feeling, opposing forces inside him, ripping him apart, tearing – he collapsed, body sprawled over the cold hard concrete. It was not long before the Dudder's gang caught up with him, kicks and punches, insults and snarls rained down upon him and all Harry could do was attempt to curl up tighter and wait out his punishment. That afternoon, clothes torn and tattered, face bruised and bloodied the boy with the dull green eyes dragged his limping form in the direction of 'home'. One consolation was Dudley's absence, having long gone in the brand new Ford Vernon had purchased.

And so it went on, with books as his only companions, Harry Potter soon became prodigy-like in terms of his knowledge and intellect. Having issued himself a library card at the local library, the boy visited whenever he could, transporting back on his little trolley pile after pile of precious books. This was one of the few privileges he was allowed, Vernon learnt that as the boy's legal guardian he was responsible for any damage done to the books out under Harry's name and gave up destroying the checked out items after learning it the hard way through a bill of 274.50 pounds. So at the tender age of eight, Harry Potter moved onto advanced physics, calculus and chemistry, three of his favourite subjects. However his people skills were nowhere near the level of academics he had attained, in fact they were well below average. Harry no longer sought human companionship as he might have once had, instead preferring to keep to himself. Truth be told, the idea of socialising with other human beings frightened him, though he'll never admit it.

During the summer break of his third year of schooling, a seemingly insignificant event changed Harry's life forever.

* * *

It was a week off his ninth birthday and the green-eyed boy was slaving over a hot stove preparing the Dursley's dinner as per usual when the phone rang. Giving the chowder one last stir, he quickly put the lid on the pot and left it to simmer. Picking up the phone he rushed upstairs and with a polite knock on the master bedroom, he left the phone outside the door before heading back to check on the meal. Moments later heavy footsteps announced the arrival of one Vernon Dursley, brows furrowed the heavy-set man made his way to the living room where his wife Petunia and son Dudley were totally engrossed by the latest reality show on telly. Harry cocked his head, straining to pick up the conversation as his Uncle began to talk. 

"Bad news and good news Pet." Vernon began, low baritone grumbling away. "Which shall it be first?"

"Well best get the bad over and done with then." His Aunt replied, voice as shrill as ever.

"Marge broke her leg. Tripped over that dog of hers I believe. Nothing too serious from what I've heard but she won't be going anywhere for a while."

Harry silently snorted, a gleeful smirk tugging at his lips. That woman had that one coming, how blissfully ironic.

"And the good news dad?" Dudley perked, voice pitched in a permanent whine.

"Well she won these tickets to the States through some holiday programme or other. Was going to go with some friends, but not anymore obviously. She's kindly bestowing the package onto us, lovely lady isn't she?"

'Friends?' Thought Harry derisively. 'As if she had any.'

"That's wonderful Vernon!" Petunia gushed. "We haven't been on a holiday for so long! We're not taking the _boy_ of course-"

Noises of agreement all round.

"I'll find someone to take him tomorrow."

"Good love. Can't have the freak ruin everything." Vernon nodded with satisfaction.

Harry swallowed, it was no surprise they were going to dump him on someone, it's always been this way after all. Even so he could not help but be disappointed. America! Imagine the things he could have seen! The natural landmarks, the museums…but it didn't matter really. He was going to spend the rest of the holidays looking at photos of dead cats if his relatives had their way.

The boy shook his head and slid his attention back to dinner. It's become much of a dilemma lately, the whole cooking scheme. Cook food too nice and the greedy trio would just gobble it all up leaving nothing to him, cook food too mundane and a complaint will be issued and he still won't get any dinner. Best way about it was to sneak food while cooking, however this was also becoming problematic as sausage man had a tendency to patrol and check up on him at the worst of times.

'Speak of the devil.' Harry inwardly cursed and dropped the ladle back into the pot as Vernon stuck his head through the door. Piggy eyes squinting with suspect the man growled.

"Hurry it up boy. We're wasting away in here."

Carefully scooping up the chowder into bowls, Harry bit back an angry retort that no he doubt that would be happening any time soon, if ever. Keeping his brilliant green eyes cast downwards he mumbled an obedient 'yes Uncle Vernon' before serving the family that was already seated around the table, eyes still glued to the telly.

Dinner that night was good, which meant Harry didn't get any. Sighing after he finished cleaning up and scrubbing the floors, the boy trudged back into his cupboard. So consumed by weariness, he didn't even bother starting the new book he acquired, 'Quantum physics explained', opting instead to go straight to bed. That night Harry woke up several times from dreams he couldn't quite remember, but the feeling of unease remained and he gave up going back to sleep in the early hours of the morning. Pulling on a tattered old shirt and pants way to big (courtesy of another year of hand me downs from Dudley) Harry decided to get an early start of the chores for the day.

Come Monday afternoon found Harry working in the garden. Dudley was away with his acquaintances probably getting up to no good as usual, while Petunia and Vernon were busy arranging ways to get rid of him for the remainder of the holidays.

The screech of tyres and the slam of car doors announced their arrival back from the Smithers. An angry exchange of words followed and Harry peaked from his place behind the garden shed in curiosity.

"How was I supposed to know she's just had a baby? I didn't even know she was pregnant!" Petunia did what she did best and screeched.

"Well now what? That was our last resort! Watson is away on business, damn the man and his workaholic mentality. Your other friend Amy or Amelia or something is away visiting family. Mrs. Figg has disappeared to goodness knows where probably adopting another cat knowing her and of course none of my associates can take him. I won't allow the freak to ruin my reputation at work!" Vernon rambled ramming his meaty fists up and down in frustration.

"And I'm supposed to just snap my fingers and solve everything am I? Worse comes down to worst we'll just have to take him with us. Marge gave us enough to cover that." His Aunt retorted, sullen.

At that, Vernon turned a shade of red yet unknown to man and sputtered.

"Take him with us? Are you mad Pet? As if having him here wasn't bad enough, we have to lug that freak of nature with us on holiday to another country?"

"Well the flight is in two days Vernon, I don't see another alternative." Petunia tried to soothe the man. "It won't be too bad Vernon, he can carry the luggage and run errands."

Hidden behind the shed, Harry felt hope swell up in his chest.

Heaving a great sign, sausage man conceded defeat.

"Alright love. He can come, but any funny business I swear he'll be in that cupboard for a month! And in the meantime…" Vernon's voice trailed off as he and his tall bony wife made their way back into the house.

And for the first time in ages, leaning against the garden shed, Harry Potter let a real smile grace his face.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" whined Dudley yet again. Leaning forward to stick his round beach ball of a head into the space between the two front seats, eyeing his mother then father. 

"I'm bored…and hungry! Couldn't you have gotten a car with a portable telly or something?" He demanded.

Shuffling sounds ensued as Petunia dug through the bag for food to placate her darling 'diddums'. Handing back another packet of crisps she soothed,

"Oh darling, you know we would have. But the rental place just wasn't up to date with the latest models. Mummy promises that after we reach town, we'll go see a film at the cinema alright?"

Harry tuned out his Aunt's sickeningly sweet voice; he wished she would cease the baby talk when conversing with his cousin. After all Dudley was no longer a baby if size was any indication, even if he did still have the mentality of one. Sighing and turning his attention back to the traveller's hand guide Harry jotted down all the places of interest within a 20-mile radius of their next destination.

Sam's all you can eat buffet.

Celadon Mega clothing outlet.

ToysRus HQ…

All the places of interest for his relatives that is.

It's been two whole weeks into their vacation and Harry was starting to wonder at his initial excitement of the trip. The Dursley's did not have the education or the refined taste to ever appreciate the stunning wonders of the Grand Canyon. ("It's just dirt" Dudley complained) or the various museums they had visited before Dudley had thrown such a tantrum that Petunia promised they wouldn't ever go near one again.

Two hours and forty or so minutes later. Vernon made an emergency pit stop as Dudley rushed off to empty the contents of his stomach. In the background Petunia Dursley ranted loudly about issuing a complaint to the manufacturers of ETA chips since their low quality product had made her poor baby so sick. Personally, Harry thought it was the whole multi-tasking that did it as Dudley had tried to eat, complain, and play his game boy all at once. The blond blob just didn't have the brain capacity to carry out more than one task at once and soon went green with nausea.

Vernon decided where they had stopped was a good place as any to pause for lunch and Harry soon found himself lugging out the basket and blankets and preparing a picnic lunch somehow with the squashed veggies and frozen salami they had. Meanwhile Dudley had made a full recovery and was being a nuisance as he poked and prodded at Harry while he worked.

The place wasn't anything special thought Harry, as he wondered off searching for the blanket Dudley had tried to parasail with. The rest of the family sat a few feet behind him in the long grass, busy stuffing their faces with food. It was a rather mountainous region with dark green patches of forest capping the distant hilltops while grassy areas lined the lonely road. There must have been a power station nearby, concluded Harry upon sighting the tall towers along with transformers that were responsible for transporting electrical power to various towns in the surrounding area. Harry continued his brisk walk until he finally spotted the runaway blanket caught on a protruding limb on one of the towers. Gazing upwards, Harry felt a cold feeling settle at the bottom of his stomach. There was no way he was going to get that, swallowing he decided to head back and announce the blanket to be lost for good.

"Well aren't you going to get that boy?"

Harry jumped. Behind him stood Vernon Dursley, who apparently had finished his lunch and came to seek out his no-good nephew for clean up duty. Arms crossed, the beefy man stood, an almost satanic grin upon his face. Prodding the boy forward he mocked.

"Well show us your skills boy. Lets see how well you can climb." By now Dudley had joined his father. Eyes glinting the boy waited, looking for a chance, any chance to teach his abnormal cousin a lesson – with his fists.

Seeing no way out of the situation Harry edged forward until he came to a stop directly beneath the tower with the black and red blanket flapping in the wind. Black like death with a spattering of blood, an ominous sign if he ever saw one. Rubbing his hands down his pant legs, the small black-haired boy began to climb.

Relax, he told himself, just don't touch anything you're not supposed to and you won't die a painful death. Silently snorting at the reassurance he was getting from himself, Harry continued upwards. It was bloody hard work especially for someone his size but every time the boy looked down two blubbery pink figures would glare back up at him, daring him to even consider coming back without a haul. It seemed to take forever but he finally came to eyelevel with the blanket, tauntingly waving at him in the wind. Carefully he reached out, trying to grab it by a corner. Three times it took him but he finally got it, pulling he tried to un-snag the blanket from where it was caught. It was then, that a gust rose out of nowhere. Screaming it came down at him. The boy rubbed his eyes fruitlessly, trying to clear out the specks of dirt that had lodged themselves on the inside of his eyelids. The other hand he kept curled tight in a firm grip, refusing to let the flapping blanket go without a fight. With both hands out of action in terms of balance, a final gust of wind tilted the boy forward and gave the blanket enough force to pull him from the main body of the tower and Harry found himself falling.

Reaching out in panic for anything that would slow his descent Harry grabbed the very thing he had warned himself not to touch – the power lines.

A horrendous amount of power surged through the boy. And seconds later came the sickening thud as his body impacted with the ground.

* * *

Dudley was having the time of his life as he watched his nervous cousin climb up the tower. Pausing now and then, the blond could see the discomfort and tension in the small figure and a grin lit his face. When the freak had finally reached the blanket, Dudley pouted with disappointment, the show was nearly over. 

But then, the boy fell.

For the first time in his life, Dudley was afraid. Afraid _for _the dark haired boy that was his cousin. Beside him, he felt his father tense and then they were both running.

The sight they came upon was not pretty. Smoking slightly, with his fleshed charred and burnt Harry Potter lay on the ground. His whole demeanour was twisted with limbs at unnatural angles. Dudley could even see a part of a rib poking out of the mangled form. Taking a hurried step back, the blond boy threw up for the second time that day.

Vernon knelt beside the body, rigid with shock. Eyes dilating with panic he checked a pulse and found none. Backing away he picked up his sick son and sprinted back to his ignorant wife who was still trying to boil water for tea. Petunia's eyes widened with shock upon seeing the state of her husband and son. Eyes darting, Vernon was practically foaming at the mouth when he spoke.

"Accident… Freak dead…Have to leave…NOW!" The last word came out as a strangled moan.

Petunia dared not question her shaking husband. One look at her poor shocked baby, noting the absence of the boy she had come to view as a burden, a light of understanding lit Petunia's eyes. Obediently packing their belongings she ushered them towards the car. And that was how three frightened and pale Dursleys drove off in their old rental car, going at speeds far exceeding the limit to disappear over the next hilltop. In the small vehicle Petunia Dursley spoke in rushed tones, booking three seats on the next flight back to England.

* * *

Harry Potter lay where he landed. Green eyes glazed and not a breath stirred, he appeared very dead indeed. But betraying the calm outer surface, beneath the mangled exterior two powerful forces that resided within him worked together for the first time. 

Unbeknownst to Harry, he was the boy-who-lived, a wizard with a large pool of inner magic at his disposal. However he was also the first mutant in the wizarding world to have survived through pregnancy to birth. Due to the incompatibility of his mutant cells and the magic that lived within him, Harry was not able to access either of the powers. The two forces acting destructively upon each other and acting as natural blocks whenever he unconsciously called upon them. Now, however, after being purged with electrical power that has all but destroyed his body and along with it weakened the powers that arose due to his mutancy, the magic locked within him came to life in a desperate attempt to keep its master alive. Weaving through the boy's body, powerful healing magic came to play speeding up the natural growth rate of cells and regenerating vital organs. Because the mutant DNA is ingrained within him, in attempting to heal his body Harry's magic became intertwined with his mutant powers as they slowly awakened once more. The two forces once incompatible became merged through this process, coming together to form a working but chaotic centre point.

Outwardly the wounds instilled upon his broken body were rapidly disappearing as green-gold fire pulsed through his form, coming from deep within him. Forty-nine minutes spent in 'clinical death' beforetheboytook his first breathe again. As feeling came back to him, Harry Potter took up an almost peaceful expression. He felt whole for the first time in his life.

**A/N**: Review for more! A good response and I will continue :P


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Miles away, sitting at her desk in Professor Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Ororo Munroe calmly sipped her coffee. With feet propped up on the table, she stretched languidly, loosening the knotted muscles in her shoulders and back and sighed a small sigh of relief. Logan and Scott had been at it yet again, but given they weren't trying to kill each other (too much) she had let the scene play out and now the both of them were off sulking like elementary kids in their respective hideaways. The tall woman gingerly brushed a lock of snow-white hair behind her ear before standing to refill her beloved mug. Technically she was a doctor – and caffeine is exactly what she was prescribing herself.

Setting a brisk pace, Ororo, more commonly known as Storm for obvious reasons, strode across the room intending for the glorious coffee maker that was currently the love of her life. However she never quite reached her destination having been disrupted by a rapidly blinking light on one of the plasma screens, so intent was she on getting her daily dose of black goodness that she would have missed the commotion altogether if the blinking was not also accompanied by the most irritating electrical whine. Throwing her hands up in frustration and giving the coffee machine one more yearning look, she made her way to the computer that was demanding her attention.

'God – they're like children at the best of times.'

However all signs of annoyance disappeared as what she saw penetrated the fuzziness in her head to register in her mind.

"Great, and the day gets better." Storm roughly ran a hand through silken hair and darted out of the room, all thoughts of coffee forgotten to be replaced by an urgent need to find a certain Professor.

Professor Xavier, headmaster of this special institute for gifted youngsters, was relaxing over tea in his personal library. The room was silent but for the occasional clinking of china as he and his companion, one lovely lady named Jean, continued their mental discussion. Shooting rapid facts and jabs at each other, the crinkling in the corner of eyes and the slight tilt of the lips showed the two's obvious enjoyment.

This comfortable silence was disturbed however when Storm, well, stormed in. Straightening Professor Xavier turned a curious eye upon the intruder while Jean, tossing back a head full of hair the colour of autumn leaves stood and greeted the tall woman.

Brows drawn at the ruffled appearance of the normally so poised woman, Jean began to speak only to be cut off mid-sentence by Ororo.

"Storm, is-"

"Professor, Jean" A curt nod of the head to each.

"Something's just shown up on the mutant detector. Something big."

"The updated one to show both active and awakening power?"

"The very same. And just for your information, some major power has just come into play according to the D-5."

"Professor?"

The man spoken to cocked his head, a brief look of concentration crossing his face before he responded.

"I must admit that my mind was rather occupied for a good half an hr before you came Storm. I've just checked for any odd occurrences or new sources of mutant power but did not come across anything unusual. Should we perhaps head to the labs and see?"

Fifteen minutes later found a frustrated Ororo, a sympathetic Jean and a confused Professor all sitting in the laboratory facing a large silent screen which at that moment showed no signs of blink-age.

"I swear I saw it! It was right here!" Storm growled, stabbing an accusing finger over a dull spot over North America.

Having reached the labs, the exotic woman with chocolate skin and white hair had led them straight to D-5. However, upon reaching the machine, she noted the lack of whining and blinking. Frowning with growing frustration she had crosschecked all alerts over the northern hemisphere within the past hour but still did not find the one that had drawn her alert and attention. Having Jean pat her sympathetically on the back with that look in her eyes certainly did not improve her mood. Said woman, at that moment, had finally decided to stopped shooting Storm worried looks and was now eyeing the overused coffee mug with suspicion.

"Storm…" She began.

"No. I was not hallucinating."

"That wasn't what I was about to say."

Storm raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Well not in those exact words… But perhaps you should get some rest instead of running on caffeine? I know the updating is taking its toll on you, and I also know for a fact you haven't slept much, if at all, in the past week."

The eyebrow dropped and the tall woman narrowed her eyes.

"I know what I saw."

Jean sighed and looked to the Professor for help.

Professor Xavier himself looked torn over the situation. From what he knew of the exotic woman, she was a trustworthy and reliable source, but given the situation and the fact they couldn't find a single thing to confirm what Ororo had suggested concerning the 'power' she had detected and the fact he himself couldn't trace anything different or unusual in mutant activity…from the view of things the fence looked a most luxurious place to sit on.

"Perhaps something will turn up later dear Storm. In meantime Jean will continue to keep a look out and you will find some rest you've been neglecting."

Storm looked like she was going to argue but then her shoulders slumped and with a weary sigh she turned.

"Alright Professor, you know best. Jean I trust you'll not take advantage of my baby" A pointed look at the coffee machine in the corner. "And I suggest you stay clear of that boyfriend of yours and Logan for a while yet."

With that Ororo swept out of the room. Maybe Jean was right, perhaps it was time to get reacquainted with her pillow.

* * *

Half way across the world in the records department of the Ministry of Magic, a thick volume loosened itself from its spot on the shelf and floated calmly down to settle upon an antique mahogany table. Once in place, the pages of the magnificent book began to turn rapidly until it finally reached a destined page and the flipping slowed to a halt. Unbeknownst to anyone, a similar process was taking place in the old crevice hidden behind the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, the famous school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The book that held the names of all magical children due to be enrolled at Hogwarts opened and stopped at a page in the P section, simultaneously both books emitted a quiet glow before a name was erased from the records and Harry Potter ceased to exist in the wizarding world.

* * *

Hard cool bullets of rain fell consistently impacting on a small still form sprawled out across the grassy field. Occasionally electric blue lightening lit up the stormy sky overhead to be followed by the low rumbles of thunder, overlaying the sounds of the weather was the dull electric hum of the power lines that ran as far as the eye could see. 

Small tongue darting out to taste the refreshing life giving rain, the wakening boy was overcome by an intense lapse of confusion as he struggled to recall where he was and how he came to be here. Attempting to move into a sitting position, Harry immediately regretted the rashness of his actions as he fell back down in shock and pain. Gasping for air, he felt an intense pressure as his lungs expanded and contracted with each breath he took. The confusion he had originally felt now multiplied ten-fold, as new questions concerning the state of his body flooded his mind. Clenching and un-clenching his fists experimentally before moving to test the condition of the rest of his body, the green-eyed boy found everything in rusty, but working order. His muscles were as stiff as board like one would expect from long periods of neglect. Or perhaps a better analogy would be a piece of frozen gum (why anyone would want to freeze gum was beyond him, but that was not the point) not yet warmed up with usage. Instead of bending with fluid motion, any movement at all was stiff and brought him a step closer to the breaking point. That summed up the feel of his body in a nutshell; Harry Potter was one giant piece of frozen gum.

It was not long before Harry started trembling as he felt the cold seep into his bones. In a way, he supposed, uncontrollable shivering was exactly what he needed right now. With a little luck his muscles will be warmed up enough for him to attempt to move around again soon. For the moment however, the boy settled into the muddy imprint he had made on the soft ground, mind blank with coldness he let the violent shudders overtake his body.

He didn't know how long it was before he woke again. The sky still wept but the rain now fell in soft splatters compared to the fierce and constant onslaught like before. Body aching as if he had just completed a hundred triathlons all in row, Harry Potter struggled to blink his weary eyes open. His mind was still a jumble of confused thoughts, but he somehow knew, instinctively, that he had been abandoned, cast away like trash on a sidewalk. However this was not the place nor time to sort out the mess inside his head, in fact, if he didn't get himself out of this weather, he would die of pneumonia first before he even gets a chance to sort himself out. Movement this time around was still a mighty pain in the ass, but it was on a tolerable level. With green eyes that were narrowed in concentration and blazing determination, the boy half limped, half dragged himself towards the shelter of the forest that lay just beyond the rise of the hill.

Step. Drag. Step.

A cycle of automated movement that led him closer to his destination.

Step.

Snap.

The lack of squelching mud underfoot to be replaced by the sharp snapping of dead leaves and twigs brought the boy out of his stupor as he looked around in a daze to observe his surroundings. No longer was he directly exposed to the biting wind that chilled him to the bone, that effect was now somewhat negated by the tall rising pines of the forest. Breathing a small sigh of relief, the boy continued, seeking out a place to collapse once more.

Twelve and quarter minutes later, although it seemed much longer to the limping boy, he finally came across the first thing that remotely resembled a shelter. Harry stood, eyes glazed with exhaustion, in front of the gaping mouth of a rocky formation at the side of a steep hill. Curtains of water had been running down the front, partially obscuring the entrance, in fact, if he hadn't been so used to viewing everything through a veil of water, he would have missed it altogether. But luck was apparently on his side for once and he walked through the shower (not that it bothered him since he was completely saturated anyhow) to find himself in a spacious cavern. The lighting was not the greatest, and the greyness of the world outside certainly did not help matters. The boy squinted, taking a few uncertain steps forward and stopped.

_Wolves_

A _pack_ of wolves

A pack of wolves that had _noticed the intruder_ (namely himself).

A strangled laughter reached Harry's ears, and after a few moments he realised it came from him. Oh how life loved its practical jokes, after all the effort of making it from nowhere to somewhere that was still nowhere but better than the nowhere from before, he was going to become dinner and be devoured and die anyway. At that moment, hope died in those brilliant emerald eyes, like light snuffed out of a candle. Everything suddenly became too much and the boy felt darkness creeping in at the sides of his vision. Lowering himself to the ground he huddled, trembling, in a foetal position.

"Go ahead, eat me. At least I'll be of some use in the form of food and energy." He whispered bitterly.

The soft padding of paws, a wet nose at his cheek and a low grumbling bark like laughter.

"You're a bit scrawny for my tastes. And by the look of you, probably bad for my health anyhow."

As consciousness finally slipped away from him, Harry's last thought was one of warmth and talking wolves.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I'm still alive (barely). Who knew bloody uni could be so damn stressful? Well I suppose its my own damn fault for skipping first year.. but you know the drill - reviews equal update (especially now). 


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N**: This chapter resulted afteran overnighter at uni with nothing but 15 minutes worth of power-napping in those long 36 odd hrs, so kindly ignore any blatant spelling/grammar mistakes, or anything that doesn't make sense in general (which may very well be the entire chapter but meh).

* * *

Harry Potter wondered if he was dead, but then realised he was in way too much pain to be anywhere near as dead as he'd hoped. Shivering, he curled closer to the warmth along his side while his entire body screamed in protest against the slight movement. But that's not the worst of his troubles; he was currently inflicted with a migraine that was the great grandmother of the mother of all migraines. His head was now just mass of sensitive nerves wracked with fiery hot pain every half a second. Which somehow, as impossible as it may seem, felt worse than the time his giant pink blob of a cousin doused his hair with lighter fluid and actually set his head aflame with his new pencil blowtorch (Vernon Dursley wasn't laughing by the time his new leather jacket received the same treatment and the poor blowtorch now resided in the musty old desk at his uncle's work, misused now and then to heat pasta or melt butter for lunch).

After fifteen minutes worth of willing for all the pain to disappear and failing miserably, the flushed boy forced his eyes open. The first thing he realised was he couldn't see, after a brief moment of panic he realised it was due the fact he had his face mashed up against a fur coat of some kind. The second thing he realised after he peeled his face away from the fur coat was that it wasn't a fur coat. Unless that is, said fur coat had brilliant icy blue eyes, a muzzle, two twitching ears and resembled remarkably the biggest wolf Harry had ever seen.

Jumping up in alarm, letting out the most girlish squeal he would ever emit, Harry ran away as fast as his legs would take him. Or at least, that's what he would have done had his body been willing to cooperate. What really happened however was a pathetic mew and a uncoordinated scramble that took him a grand distance of a hand span from his original position. After a few seconds, Harry squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. Not only was he in worse pain than before (his body really didn't appreciate the sudden movement), he was now cold as well. He should have stayed where he was, at least then he'd be nice and warm when the wolf decided it was hungry rather than cold and damp like he was now.

"That was astoundingly the most pathetic act of get away I have ever seen!" An unfamiliar voice howled with laughter.

The boy snapped his eyes open, scanning the dim area for the source of the sound. Try as he might he could not spot anything remotely human, he did however find a large number of wolves all shapes and sizes which made his attempt to escape a few moments before seem even more ridiculous.

"Yes, it was indeed. Most amusing thing I've come across since Spaz got his head stuck in a tree chasing after that squirrel."

"Where are you?" Harry growled, in both frustration and humiliation.

"My, are you blind on top of having absolutely no coordination?"

Speaking of blindness, Harry awkwardly patted his face in search of his missing glasses and found them indeed to be missing. Blinking, he looked around again and found he was still able to see clearly, just as he had once been able to before he got his glasses. In fact, probably better than before if this uncanny ability to see in the dim setting was any indication. So absorbed was he in this new discovery, Harry did not noticed the second wolf until she stuck her snout in his face.

A yelp and a flinch was all he could manage, other than that the boy stayed stock still in his sprawled position observing the newcomer with morbid fascination.

She was beautiful (it was a her, he just knew it somehow), with smooth gleaming white coat and amber eyes that glowed. Perfectly proportioned, she was by far the most graceful and artistic creature he'd ever seen. The only quality that detracted from her attractivenesswas probably the fact that she was a large wolf who could and may very well decide that he was dinner.

"Oh dear, he's still thinking we're going to just gobble him right up isn't he?"

Emerald green eyes widened.

The she-wolf nosed him again and darted a playful lick across his cheek, her laughing eyes sparkled with mirth.

"I'm sorry to say your rather scrawny form does nothing at all for us big bad wolves of the west."

"West? I thought we were situated more north-ish than west?"

"Ah well, it went better. Alliteration and all you know."

Harry Potter was now bloody confused. Here he was in the middle of nowhere, in more pain than he'd ever been, being patronised by two large wolves, wait, make that two large_talking_ wolves (as there is no doubt now concerning the speakers, as one Sherlock Holmes once stated, when all other possibilities have been eliminated, the only one left, no matter how utterly absurd it may seem, must be the truth – or something along those lines anyway) who were now happily conversing about the technicalities of the English language. He has been in many…strange, shall we say, situations before (usually the cause of a large pink beach ball named Dudley) but this is simply ludicrous.

Reaching over to pinch himself just to check he was awake, Harry paused as he felt sharp pain lance through his body.

'Well that's good enough in a bad way I suppose…' Fighting to keep his breath in check, the boy clenched his fists, wishing for it to end. Green eyes glazed over in shock as another wave of pain hit.

The two wolves had long since stopped trading remarks and turned their attention to the tense boy. The white female leaned forward, touching a cool nose to his brow then plopped herself down next to him. The boy shivered slightly as the warmth began seeping through his side, he didn't realise just how cold he'd gotten. A soft padding, then another warm body at his side. Sighing slightly as the warmth seem to take away some of his pain as well, the boy felt himself relax against the canines. Slowly, sleepy green eyes drooped shut as Harry Potter was finally whisked away by Morpheus into the land of dreams.

Unbeknownst to the sleeping boy, two wolves, dark and light, ying and yang gazed intently down at him and in a split second decision that felt as right as the rain that still poured from the sky outside, appointed themselves his new guardians. A few more moments of comfortable silence before the female darted a sly sideways glance at her partner.

"Bags not telling the matriarch."

Her darker counterpart merely grinned…well…wolfishly before responding.

"Fine by me, I've always wanted to try out the whole 'Ma look what we found' approach."

The female snorted silently, careful not to jostle the sleeping boy while the male gingerly extracted himself from the boy's side with far more gentleness than would be expected. With eyes twinkling with mirth, the large wolf then bounded off like a puppy on crack.

Left alone with her charge, the alpha female gently curled herself tighter around the sleeping boy.

"When you wake up my little one, we really ought to do something about your projections."

* * *

Darting a nervous glance around the front area of the house, one Petunia Dudley quickly ushered her baby boy out onto the lawns. Standing stiffly on the side of the stairs she watched her darling-kin's Oscar winning performance.

Dudley gave a nervous twitch, swallowing and turning a rather interesting shade of magenta he gave strangled holler.

"Harry! Hurry up, we're gonna be late!"

With that, the overweight blob turned and shuffled frantically for the car.

From inside the house emerged a new figure. Clad in clothing several sizes too big with a baseball cap pulled over his face. A young boy with round glasses and messy hair came running down the stairs. With a quick wave and a 'Bye Aunt Petunia' he darted through the open car door into Vernon's ugly ford.

From the window of her cosy little house a few ways away, one Arabella Figg observed the exchange with a pleased smile. Today was a fishing trip she believed, nodding agreeably she returned to the kitchen to check on the water for her tea. Ever since the Dursleys returned from their trip from theAmericas they had been paying young Harry more attention which he desperatelyneeded. Perhaps the time spent in a foreign country has managed to convince the muggle family that the green eyed little boy was really rather sweet and most polite and helpful. From what she had gathered, the family had decided to send their son Dudley and Harry to a prestiged boarding school in Scotland in the coming school year. At first she was rather concerned and passed along the news to Albus, but the old man seemed delighted with the idea reflecting that such a change will get Harry used to the idea of boarding schools and allow him to become more independent. The Headmaster even took the liberties of modifying the blood protection charms so that they were now centred through Dudley Dursley who will be in close vicinity to Harry for most of the year. Humming a merry tune under her breath, Arabella took the kettle off the stove and set about to start dinner.

A few miles away, the little boy with round glasses pulled off his cap and extended out a grubby hand.

"Where's my money mister."

Pulling over in a narrow street, Vernon Dursley grumbled before emptying his wallet of cash.

"Now listen here you brat, one word of this to _anyone_…"

The boy widened his big brown eyes as he put on an innocent look.

"Why, sir, I would neverdream oftelling anyone about this… provided we agree on my pay and all that of course"

Counting the wad of cash he shoved a pink Dudley out of the way before clambering out of the car.

"Don't forget, we'll pick you up at the same place in two weeks time!" Vernon hollered, a hint of panic showing through.

A brisk salute was all the indication of agreeance that the child gave to the request as he strolled down the alleyway.

A sweating Dudley hurriedly pulled the door shut and met his father's eyes.

"Think we'll pull it off dad?"

The fat man grunted, nodding his head affirmative with more confidence than he felt.

"Of course son. We're almost home free, one more show for the crowd and we're there. Just once more and he_'ll_ be out of our lives. For good."

* * *

Half way across the world at Professor Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Storm ran her fingers repeatedly through her fine hair. Staring intently at the monitors of D-5 she typed furiously, stopping only once in a while to either sip out of her beloved mug or run her hands in frustration through her hair, again. Despite the lack of evidence Ororo was still utterly convinced that the supposed 'glitch' of the new sensor system was more than it appeared. Call it woman's intuition if you will, but she somehow knew something big was happening and she was stuck right in the middle of it, they all were. Now if only she could convince someone else without being stared at like she was a hallucinogenic sleep deprived nut. (Although she must concede to the sleep deprived description)

Twenty minutes later, the exotic woman let out a yelp of frustration and threw herself forwards, slumping over the large table. Glaring at the monitor with undisguised hatred she stabbed an accusing finger at it.

"Ungrateful little thing aren't you? I_made_ you! You're not supposed to do this to me!"

Waving her fists around in protest it was not long before the woman slammed them against the worn keyboard. Swearing mentally Ororo quickly straightened the offended item before the flashing screen caught her eye.

"Hardware balancing…?"

Eyes widening the woman shot off her seat. If this were a cartoon then there'd be a giant flashing light bulb dancing around her head.

"How could I have been so stupid?"

Getting on all fours she crawled beneath the table making her way behind the tall cabinets that were the brains and brawn of the D-5. Running long fingers down the wired plates she quickly spotted her target and pulled out a humming green circuit board with an excited grin. After a few moments and much prodding, the woman called Storm felt the colour wash out of her face. There, on the data storage capacitor was a tiny microscopic hole. Somehow, whatever had been detected that day had been even more powerful than she'd originally anticipated, in fact, it had been powerful enough to burn right through their system – literally! No wonder she couldn't find any record of it afterwards, the memory of that split second record had been completely wiped, the only reason the system didn't crash altogether was because she was a perfectionist and insisted on independent operation on all the files. Carefully unslotting the evidence she wriggled her way back out. Clutching her sanity tightlyto her chest she marched out of the labs towards the Professor's study.

"This is bigger than I thought."

* * *

**A/N**: Yay! I'm alive! Thanks for bearing with me! 


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